Hungry Heart
by Code Green
Summary: "We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams." Arthur O'Shaughnessy Sarah is to write a sequel to her best-selling novel "The Labyrinth." She thought her adventure of old was only a dream. The Goblin King must prove to her that her journey was real, that HE is real, for his very existence depends upon her belief in him.
1. Chapter 1

**My last story involved songs and lyrics from the marvelous Billy Joel. This one will be involving the works of the magnificently talented Bruce Springsteen.**

**Chapter One: Trying to Recapture a Little of the Glory**

Fifteen years.

Hazel eyes squinted against the bright Georgia sun, both amused and pensive as they observed the scene unfolding before them. A young woman, barely fifteen-years-old, was rushing across the green grass of Washington Square, draped in an over-sized white medieval gown, her dark hair, most of it made of extensions, pinned up to add some sort of dignity to the girl's costume. A large sheepdog trotted after the girl, wagging his tail politely as directors barked orders at the actress and trainers shouted orders at the dog. Lines were spoken and then came the call of And just like that, the hazel-eyed observer had watched the completion of her book unfold before her in acted form, prepped and practiced for the big screen.

Someone called above the noise of wrapping up the scene.

Dark strands of chocolate hair drifted across Sarah's face as she nodded. She pushed the strands back and then waved her farewell to the cast before turning and walking across the fresh-cut lawn to the houses bordering the Savannah square, a faraway smile on her face. Fifteen years ago, she had been that girl, racing across the green lawn, throwing all self-consciousness and decorum to the wind as she quoted poetry to her only audience, a barn owl who was surprisingly out during the day and who gazed at her with interest in its large eyes.

How vivid her imagination had been! How pure and untarnished from the world! It had been her imagination that had led her to turn her adventures from the play world of the Labyrinth into the written word of a popular novel. Children and adults alike had devoured her story of the Goblin King and the girl-he-loved as soon as its pages had been bound and sold to anyone who would buy. It had made Sarah wealthy, wealthy enough to attend college in New York, fulfilling a desire to become a costume designer and joining her life to that of a young man, one of her colleagues, a student who had swept her heart away even as her novel was taking the country by storm.

He had been everything she had dreamed of, for with time, her fantasies of a wild-haired, tight-wearing Goblin King had been replaced with desires for a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a liking for the modern music that she approved of. Once she had imagined the Goblin King to have a voice and a body startling similar to that of the now-fading David Bowie, but later she had come to want a man who didn't sing at all and who looked a great deal more like Ben Affleck. She had found all this in Brian Hayes, and for their years of college, they had fallen in and out of love, the one moment in a passionate discussion on poetry or their lives, and the next moment shouting and bickering about the smallest of things.

Had it really been a year ago when he had left her for someone else, when he had coldly turned away from her pleas, leaving her standing alone in the Broadway theater? She hadn't known what to do, and so she had fled to the haven of Savannah, taking up residence in an apartment that she was renting from her stepmother's relatives and living a quiet life as a costume designer for the Savannah Theater and for whomever else needed costumes in the area.

And now her precious book had become a movie. Or, rather, it was in the last stages of becoming a motion picture. Sarah had been involved in the production from start to finish, helping with the costumes, adding her input to the different scenes, and appreciating the quality of the acting and production cast. This movie would serve, once again, to promote her story. It was because of this that her publishers were pushing for a sequel.

She sighed as she entered her home, a historic house that had been divided into multiple apartments. She made her way up the wooden stairs to her front door, biting her lip uncertainly as she unlocked the barrier and then stepped into the safety of her home. She had left her windows open, and she could hear the wind chimes singing as she walked through her small sitting area, past her kitchen, and into her bedroom. Heaving another great sigh, she sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, the airy purple material of her bedspread sinking beneath her.

Another story. When she had written the first one, she hadn't suffered heartache and the story from her dream was all so clear that writing had been easy, almost brainless. Now, though, she had hazy memories of the main character of her dream. That beastly Goblin King had looked an awful lot like David Bowie, and the other characters had looked shockingly like her stuffed animals and toys of the time. She chuckled, imagining how it would have been if Lancelot had appeared in her dream. Imagine, a giant stuffed teddy bear walking about the Goblin King, trying to stomp him!

River breezes drifted through the room, causing the wind chimes to continue their tinkling melody, their painted glass making colors dance across Sarah's off-white walls. Paper butterflies, hanging from the ceiling, circled and twirled, and a voice seemed to reach out to Sarah, whispering almost silently from the wings of the butterflies and the holes of the wind chimes...

_ Remember._

Sarah closed her eyes and lay back on her bed, trying her best to think of ideas for the second part of her story. Dreams were so difficult to recall after the dreamer had awoken, and dreams dreamed fifteen years ago were even harder to bring back to memory. All the fans of her dream wanted a love story, and because of what she had written, it was only right that they should want it. But how could the heroine Sarah ever find love again? She had already danced with her admirer, had already tasted of love's desire, and her knight had left her.

It was a cruel irony, how much the Sarah of her book was like the Sarah that existed now. The Sarah that lived now, however, had no interest in mullets and manes of platinum blonde hair. Tights were a thing to be worn by ballerinas, certainly not Goblin Kings. Bogs that made sounds that were tremendously like passing body odors were childish and could scarcely be put into another book. It surely wouldn't sell. The Labyrinth held nothing now but a swirl of faded and discarded memories. Even when she had written her novel, though it had been shortly after her dreams of the Underground, Sarah had forgotten the words to the songs that the Goblin King sang. She had forgotten what he smelled like, had forgotten the intense feelings of infatuation and dreaminess. All emotions were forgotten, all details of a dream so long ago were gone.

There could be no sequel. She had forgotten her dream. Her heart had been broken, and she had nothing left. No love story to write, no songs to sing. Even if the Labyrinth ever came to her again in her sleep, what she had know of it had been a child's design. She had no place in a world of glittering fairies, Helping Hands, Fireys, talking foxes, and Goblin Kings. She had nothing left for writing...

A rumble of thunder startled Sarah out of her sleep an hour later, and she sat up in bed, turning her head to look to the wind chimes, now swirling rapidly in the wind of the oncoming storm. It was not yet night, but the ominous storm clouds outside darkened the sky, casting Sarah in shades of gray. A shiver trembled through her at the sudden bite of the wind, and she stood up, moving to her translucent green curtains to push them away from the window so that she could close it. She could hear the wind chimes in the kitchen and living room singing loudly, demanding that she close their windows, too, and she struggled with her curtains, pushing them away from the window even as the wind rustled them back into place, swirling and wrapping around Sarah like a large green snake.

_ Remember!_

It had sounded almost like a real voice this time, and Sarah jumped, turning her head to look for an intruder, but there was no one there. No one but the image of herself in her full-length mirror. She laughed lightly at herself and then turned again to the window. The curtains seemed to have gotten longer, writhing in the boisterous storm winds, slapping her in the face and whipping through her hair. Shivers rocketed through her, an adrenaline rush that she couldn't understand making her nervous and cold. Goosebumps prickled her skin as her hands found her window and began to push down, trying with all her might to shut the pane of glass, to lock herself away from the violent wind.

Wind blew through the trees, making them howl like waves crashing against a shore. The breeze quieted for several seconds, but then it was fiercer than ever, shouting against the wind chimes, against the rustling of the curtains, against the twisting of the butterflies.

_ REMEMBER!_

Sarah was knocked off her feet and flung back. She landed hard on her side as the curtains pulled away from their restraints and sprang at her like a silky emerald animal, brushing across her face and forcing her to turn her head, to look up.

She was directly in front of the mirror, and the image that blinked back at her was a wilder version of herself. Her hair was wind-tossed and knotted, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. Again, the curtains whipped across, and her reflection was wiped away. Now there was another image staring back at her, one difficult to see, just as the images of her dream were now out of focus. The curtains appeared to have been sucked into the mirror, for they swirled around the figure there, hiding all but his outline as Sarah looked from where his feet must have been all the way to his face, high above her. Behind the curtains, she could see two glowing eyes, one brown and the other blue, gazing at her with a fire that she had never seen before. They were magic, they were power, they were arrogant.

A voice spoke to her from behind the green, strong and rich, and she gulped down moisture as a shock of fear rippled through her.

"Hello Sarah."


	2. Darling You Know Just What I'm Here For

Chapter Two: Darling You Know Just What I'm Here For

She didn't have to ask who he was this time. While she couldn't remember the details of how he had looked, she had always remembered that rich voice. It had made her think of satin, silky and smooth and cold. From her place on the floor, she could smell him, and she closed her eyes as a dozen memories flooded through her mind. He smelled of spice, of winter pine, of spring grass, of summer storms, and of autumn leaves. It overwhelmed her, and for a few seconds, she allowed herself to remain on the carpet at the mirror's feet. Her eyes opened again, slowly, and she raised herself so that she was sitting in a kneeling position, comfortably seated atop her own legs.

The curtains unfurled, drifting slowly to the ground and dropping at the feet of the Goblin King. The fabric was both in and out of the mirror, draped across the frame as though there was no longer any glass separating Sarah from her past nemesis. She could see him now, and a puzzled expression appeared on her face. This wasn't the same person she remembered. Hadn't the Goblin King worn tights and extravagant capes? Here she saw a being in simple black boots, black pants that covered most of his boots, and a plain navy shirt devoid of ruffles and lace. The sleeves were long and reminded Sarah of the pirate shirts she frequently made for costumes. His hair was no longer long, and it no longer gave the impression that it was loaded with hair spray. It was flat, in layers that fell to just beneath the King's shoulders. And hadn't he been wearing a medallion?

"Where is your medallion?"

No sooner had the words left Sarah's lips then she flung her hands across her mouth, shocked that the first words she should speak to the man in her dreams were words that were so ridiculous. He seemed just as surprised at her words as she was, for he stood silently, blinking at her with a blank look in his eyes. Resolving to try again, Sarah gulped back her saliva and stood up. She was surprised to find how much shorter he had become than she remembered him being. It slipped her mind that fifteen years had passed, that he hadn't shrunk but she had grown.

"I am sorry," she apologized. "Are you real?"

He didn't answer but stepped forward, and Sarah watched as one boot and then the other walked through the mirror, bringing the man to come to a stand directly in front of her. She imagined she should have been intimidated by his nearness; perhaps if he had been dressed in the way that she remembered she might have been. Now though, he seemed like a normal man, and she didn't move or flinch at his nearness.

"Am I real?" he questioned, his breath warm against her face.

They stood close together for several long seconds, staring at each other. Sarah didn't realize she had been holding her breath until she released it and gulped in another lungful of air.

"You see...," she stammered, "I had thought that you were a dream. I may even be asleep now. Am I asleep?"

Perhaps it was because she had seen it so many times in movies, but the only thing Sarah could think of to do was hold her hand up, palm facing the Goblin King. He blinked again and then reached his hand out to meet hers. She noticed that he wore brown gloves, cut off at the wrists, as he placed the palm of his hand against hers and then laced his fingers with her own. She gasped lightly as she realized that she could _feel_ the leather, that she could feel the sensation of his fingers against hers. Her gasp turned to a yelp as his fingers tightened, nearly crushing her own digits and making her pull her hand away in pain.

"What was that for?" she demanded.

"I did not come here to satisfy you by answering all your many questions, Sarah."

"So you _can_ talk," Sarah bit back, massaging her wounded hand.

"I am not a romantic fantasy to be trifled with," the Goblin King spoke, stepping past her and sitting in a large tan recliner in the corner of the room. "I had to make certain that you are real. For while you may think I am but a dream, I could hardly have been certain that the Sarah I was looking at was the Sarah I once knew."

"It has been fifteen years. What did you expect?" Sarah frowned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Time is different in my world," he answered, his eyes roaming over her face and then drifting down her body to her feet. "Many things have happened since last we met."

"Why are you here?"

"Sarah, Sarah. When will you realize that I can only come when you summon me? All the other times I float around as a barn owl."

"I didn't call for you."

"Something in the muscle of your heart must have done it, then," he said. "And I find it remarkable that even as I was calling for you, you were calling for me."

"I don't understand," Sarah breathed, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I didn't call you. Perhaps I was thinking of you, but only because I need to write a sequel to the first dream I had about you. That wouldn't have called you here."

"It only takes the simplest wish to see me that would send me here."

"And why were you calling for me?" Sarah frowned, puzzled. "Since when do you ever need anyone?"

The Goblin King scowled and stood up, beginning to pace like a trapped animal.

"There are things that you never understood about the world you visited," he began, moving his hands as he spoke. "And why should you have? You were but a child, wishing your brother away out of self-pity. The Labyrinth is a living, breathing thing. It is not a daydream to be trifled with. It accepts the requests of beings that it finds interesting, and it accepted your wishes. It sent me to bring you into its world, and you ran its course. I was a slave at my master's bidding. It thought it amusing to turn me into the creature of your imaginings. You think I appreciated those tights?" He snorted lightly and then chuckled, shaking his head. "You entered the Labyrinth and won its game but at a cost."

"What do you mean, a cost?" Sarah demanded, something about this story making a shiver of fear ripple through her.

"The Labyrinth, out of sheer boredom, will occasionally grant the wishes of someone that it finds interesting, as I said," the Goblin King continued, "But in so doing, it will also take something from that person. You were the only being that had ever wished away a person and the only being that had ever fully succeeded in defeating the Labyrinth. For that, it took a different price from you than from anyone else I have ever seen go through it."

"What did it take?" Sarah whispered.

"Your imagination."

"How?" Sarah gasped, her hands suddenly clasping together in front of her. "Imagination is an idea! It isn't something physical! It can't just be taken!"

"Ah, but it can, and let me inform you that the Labyrinth chose to place it in a rather secure containment."

"What? What did it put my imagination in?" Sarah demanded, anger rising up inside of her.

"A creature that looks a great deal like yourself."

"Then why did you come here?" Sarah shouted. "You have some version of me running around in your world, Goblin King! You should be content!"

"There are many mistakes with what you just said," the Goblin King scowled. "First, I am no longer the Goblin King. Just Jareth. You saw to that when you took power in the Labyrinth. Secondly, that female being ruling the world that was once mine is not you. She is a mere reflection of you, housing one of your greatest gifts."

"What are you, Jareth?" Sarah sighed, collapsing onto her bed again. "Some imagining of mine come here to terrorize me with strange stories? How can I believe you? How can I believe that this isn't just a dream?"

"I was once a great deal like yourself," Jareth spoke slowly. "I was a human who wished so greatly for something that the Labyrinth took me into its world. I ran its course and failed, but it found me interesting enough to take the greatest price from me that it could ever take from anyone. It took my life. I have been trapped in that world for hundreds of years. It gave me my wish, for fame, and I confess that up until you arrived and turned my world upside down, I was enjoying it. My only struggle was to save myself from turning into a true goblin, and that has not been so difficult a task. I have proof of my humanity. I kept it hidden from the whole of the Underground for as long as I have been there. It is what keeps me sane, what keeps me from turning into the goblin creatures that you imagined, those repulsive puppets. If I show you my greatest secret, will you agree to return with me and restore my world to what it once was?"

"Has anyone ever gone into the Labyrinth twice?" Sarah breathed.

"Aside from me, no."

"Why do you need me to go back?"

"Because only you can capture your imagination. If you take it, you will have defeated the Labyrinth at its greatest game yet. It will let you return to your world without taking anything from you, and it will not interfere with anyone of your world again. It will be content. The monster that has taken my place as ruler of the Labyrinth will have been destroyed, and I can return to being the king of my own land."

"Will I stop having all of my wild dreams about it?"

"Yes."

"Will I ever see you again?" Sarah asked, an eyebrow arched.

"No."

"Let me see your proof. I want to know that the decision I make isn't going to send me into another dream."

Jareth nodded and pulled his right glove off, wincing slightly as he did so.

"Mind you," he spoke through clenched teeth, "it isn't very pretty."

Before Sarah had even seen what he was speaking of, she caught a glimpse of scarlet. Her eyes widened as he held out his hand to her, showing her the ghastly scar that nearly covered the top of his hand.

"If you can keep yourself from turning into a goblin, then the Labyrinth leaves you the way it found you," Jareth explained. "When I entered it, I had this scar, and I kept it hidden so that the Labyrinth never knew. It may change your hair or your clothes, but it will keep you the same as you were before in other respects. You don't age and your facial features don't change in any way that would be different from something you could do with cosmetics."

"Why is my imagination a threat to you? You wouldn't be here unless something was terribly wrong," Sarah frowned. "I would have thought that you would enjoy having a version of myself with you forever."

"That creature took my throne," Jareth growled. "It treats me as nothing but a slave, and it has threatened to turn me into a goblin."

"But it can't. You told me your scar keeps you from changing."

"If she finds out what it is and exposes it to the Labyrinth, there will be nothing left to save me. I am a king, Sarah," Jareth's lips quivered a bit. "You let me remain as a king and only changed the appearance of my world when you first came. The Sarah that you left behind has taken everything and turned it into darkness. You have the power to claim your imagination, to travel through the Labyrinth, weakening that monster's strength as you use what little imagination you have left. You will have to confront her, but it is my guess that you will have most of your power back by the time you reach her."

"What power do I have?"

"Silly girl," Jareth chided, chuckling. "The power I gave you. Your words. Your words alone will be able to save you in the Labyrinth now. Your imagination and your words, flowing together, making a stronger power than any that has ever been seen in the Labyrinth. Your power can cripple the very core of the Labyrinth itself. Even I do not fully understand how strong you are."

"And yet you think I can do it?" Sarah asked. "I don't trust you, Jareth."

"I am not asking for your trust."

"You are asking for my help, though."

"Consider this," Jareth grinned, beginning to circle around Sarah in a manner that she found rather familiar. "If my world remains as it is now, your dear friends will remain as they are. You see how I have changed? Imagine Hogshead, imagine your little knight of a fox, and imagine that hairy giant fellow of yours. Your imagination has twisted everything in the Underground. The dwarf you cared so much about has become a fanged, brutal creature. The fox is a one-eyed red wolf that devours whomever it can find. And the big ugly monster friend you had is a giant, terrorizing all living things in the Labyrinth. Do you want them to stay as they are now, or do you want them back as they once were? I can assure you, they are no longer happy."

"But..."

"Come back, Sarah," Jareth whispered, sliding away from her and stepping back through the mirror. "Come back before it is too late."

"I don't see much of a choice," Sarah murmured, shaking her head. "I need material for my book. What do I have to do?"

"Say your right words," Jareth crooned, and with a long sigh, Sarah pushed her hair back, stood up straighter, put her shoulders back, and opened her mouth.

"I wish Jareth would take me to the Underground right now."


End file.
